Title: Walking Through Fire
Author: MissAnnThropic
E-Mail: miss_annthropic@yahoo.com <mailto:miss_annthropic@yahoo.com>
Summary: A case gets too close to Mulder's pyrophobia he's shaken.
Disclaimer: I own nasing! Really, I don't. All you see here (that you
recognize, anyway) is the creation of someone else. I take no credit.



Scully sighed haggardly, her eyes beginning to fade in and out of focus.
She couldn't remember the last time she was so tired. Probably years...
maybe even since medical school that she was last this beat. Despite how
tired she was, though, she still was able to think clearly enough to
know that Mulder, behind the wheel next to her, was just as tired.

Scully glanced over at him, studying him slowly, her brain clicking at
what seemed an insanely slow rate... so lethargically it irritated her.
Mulder may have been physically exhausted, but he didn't look it. He was
probably still running on adrenaline. The case they'd just wrapped up
left Scully not doubting that Mulder's heart was just now beginning to
slow.

VCS had called them in on an assist when a particularly nasty case was
getting nowhere. They called up the X Files team in order to access
Mulder's 'spooky' profiling skills and Scully's exemplary forensic
training.

A serial killer had been targeting valedictorians of high schools in a
tri-county area in Richmond, Virginia. While it may have seemed like the
work of a frustrated D student getting back at those surpassing him in
scholastics, the MO and style seemed to speak more of a mature, older
killer (also determined a male from the ability to overpower some of the
victims, who were strapping young men).

The killer was murdering these straight A students, then dragging their
bodies off to be burned... making trace evidence much harder to find,
not to mention the fact that this perpetrator apparently knew what he
was doing and was careful both pre and post mortem. The latest
incidents, the killer began to burn the victims alive.

When it got to that horrifying point the people in Violent Crimes
finally pushed the desperation button... they put in a call to Fox Mulder.

Mulder had thrown himself headlong into stopping this serial killer.
Scully knew why... Mulder's fear of fire made him terrified... terrified
for these young high schoolers who were being torched for something he
could well have been similarly burned for (according to the intellectual
qualifications of the killer's victims). Mulder, as he always seemed to
do against better judgment and training, made the case personal in two
ways, and he would not stop until he found the murderer, ceased the
killing of youngsters that could well have been younger versions of
himself.

Scully saw him going into his most doggedly determined self-destruct
mode, and had known from experience it was futile to attempt to pull him
back from the case. If there was such a thing as a tether on Mulder
under most circumstances that he would allow Scully to tug to withdraw
him from the case, in certain situations he threw away all reservations
and proceeded with abandon. He cast aside his link to the real world,
diving into the depths of the monster's mind... mindless of concerns on
how he would pull himself out after tossing his life line. Scully knew
the only way to save him was to stop the murderer, so she'd worked day
and night in the forensics lab, working feverishly to find anything that
could draw them closer to the killer.

It was another burning death, once more done while the victim was still
alive, that gave them their smallest break.

Mulder had been with the team that had been out and found the burnt and
charred remains of the latest victim. Scully had startled in concern to
see him come into the lab following the ME's that were bringing the
newest corpse in to her for examination. She'd never seen him so tired.
His eyes were glassy and hazy, his hair unkempt, face unshaven... he
looked so haunted and worn.

Scully had dismissed the ME's, rushing them politely out of the medical
bay and turning to look at Mulder, her first concern for the first real
time during the case removed completely from the victims and turning to
her partner.

Mulder sank down against the counter in the back of the room, eyes
locked on the curled and horrific black expression on the cooked face of
the young woman, though her hair was gone. Seared hands curled up around
her chest, mouth open in a grotesque scream, teeth blackened by the heat
of the flames, open eyes empty and hollow... the fire having simmered
the eyeballs to nothing.

Mulder just looked at the body of the young woman... a bright girl with
her entire life ahead of her, and without warning he'd started to shake.

Scully moved quickly to him. This was it... breakdown, meltdown... Fox
Mulder had reached his limits. He usually didn't hit this point until
he'd had time to solve the case... he was falling apart prematurely.

Scully touched his face, seeking to throw him the line he'd discarded
initially in the case, trying to show him back to the world that did not
compose itself of charred remains of young adults.

Her efforts did not seem to make a difference... a dejected and lost
Mulder continued to shake, body giving out, mind spiraling with defeat.
He finally whispered, "How can someone..." then turned his broken eyes
to Scully. The gleam in his gaze was dull, his tortured soul not hidden
as it usually was.

Scully frowned, moving to step in front of Mulder's view of the horrific
body. "Mulder... we'll find him, don't worry. He won't get away with this."

Mulder clenched his eyes shut, as if willing his mind to throw some kind
of clue at him. She could almost see him spinning faster and faster...
slipping toward the edge, so close to being thrown.

Scully touched his face, running a careful hand over the stubble on his
jaw, "Mulder..."

He looked up at her, the wheels still spinning... spinning faster... so
close to slipping right off the edge.

She sighed sadly, "All of these kids at least had people who loved them.
Every background file and every interview... family and close friends,
people loved these kids, miss them, and will love them forever even when
they're gone..."

Mulder's glassy gaze barely registered her voice, then a spark jumped
into his eye. Scully knew that look... something had jumped out at
him... some small creature had dug its claws into his mind.

Mulder's eyes jerked up to Scully, looking at her in dawning revelation
and astonishment, then without another word he had rushed out of the room.

Scully had sighed... let him chase down his beasts in paperwork for a
while... at least he was away from the body.

In a matter of days a thousand pieces of a complex puzzle had fallen
together. On the cooked remains of the corpse brought in last Scully had
found a thin shred of fabric... what looked like material from some kind
of binding twine.

Scully had rushed it to the lab, where they discovered it was in fact a
few strands of thread from a rope, most likely the means by which the
children were bound. It was found to contain not only salt, algae, and
the residual traces of the slime coating found on the scales of marine
fish, but also a polyurethane material that had not been seen in
manufactured rope in a good seven years, the use of it in bonding
manufacture banned after it was found the material became extremely
flammable once exposed to sodium chloride and stored anywhere near
heat-emitting machinery.

While Scully, the lab, and the background half of the team began to
search fervently for the previous manufacturer of the rope, Mulder had
discovered a new angle (supposedly the one that had sent him off in a
dash earlier from the forensics lab), and had a dozen agents looking up
previous criminal records for men, ages 33-41, who had been arrested
earlier on charges of stalking, domestic violence, or public disruption
concerning a second party.

Within a matter of days, Scully's team had discovered that the rope
manufacturer that had been responsible for the making of the later
banned rope-bonding material was a company called Holdfast Rope, based
in Michigan. Scully had flown up there with two others agents, after
calling in to check up on Mulder. He seemed fervent again... driven, and
Scully knew she shouldn't be away long.

Though the Holdfast Rope company had been sold in a corporate buy-out
two years after they were involved in the lawsuits concerning the
flammable polyurethane, they did manage to find the previous manager and
bookkeeper of the old disband company. While most of their large stock
was sold to freshwater fishing companies in Ontario, they did sell a
large stock to Maryland and Delaware based Atlantic fishing companies.

Returning to Virginia, Scully had managed to find Mulder amidst the
flurry of activity at the field office, telling him what they'd learned
in Michigan. Tracking down shipping records, agents were dispatched to
the different fishing companies said to have bought the rope from the
Holdfast Rope company.

While most had discarded the rope after hearing of its unsafe nature,
five or six fishing outfits still had the material in use, in the
interest of cutting cost neglecting to buy new rope.

Scully and Mulder were soon on the scene, going to each of the fishing
companies with the out-of-order rope material. Questions were asked
concerning disposal, stock, and employees. A break finally came, one
that was a combination of revelations.

Mulder had been culling through the results of the agents' background
check for men with previous records of stalking and domestic violence
when he found one that jumped out at him. A man named Randall Bowling.
He had been first charged with stalking twelve years ago... a woman
named Kristin Mally. The complaints of recurrent stalking, violation of
restraining orders, and assault on the same woman continued for nearly
ten years until Kristin suddenly moved to Washington state... about as
far from Randall as she could get.

The second break was finding the Schooler Fishing Company, based in a
Maryland coast town, that used to have Randall as an employee. He had
been a troublesome employee, though before that first incident twelve
years ago he had been a dependable, honorable worker for their company.
Over the years, his behavior became more erratic and unpredictable,
harder to get along with, caught stealing on several occasions, and
eventually became physically violent with fellow employees and fired
almost a year ago.

Scully had seen Mulder's eyes... a flash that he'd made some kind of
connection, that he'd found something here that made complete sense to
him. Scully knew her only hope now was to hold on and weather the storm
as best she could.

The agents, under Mulder's order with the complete cooperation of the
Schooler Fishing Company, went into the storage warehouse of the fishing
outfit and searched the place. In a back corner they found a stack of
used rope. Tests proved it had the discontinued brand of flammable
polyurethane that had been found in the strands on the victim's body.

Mulder and Scully, hopping a red-eye to Washington state, tracked down
Kristin Mally, now Kristin Dalmen. They questioned her about Randall.
He'd apparently been following her ever since their first year of high
school, even though it had not become severe or frightening until
Randall was 22 years old. Kristin had been their class valedictorian.

Without sleep, they rushed back to Virginia. Mulder set about quickly
with an order to find Randall Bowling and bring him in for questioning
as well as sitting down to write a profile. Scully had been sitting
across the table with him, knowing that he might need her... not to back
up his theories or to bounce ideas off of... just someone there so he
could say it outloud. In the process, she found out first hand the
pieces Mulder had put together.

Randall Bowling, according to his school records, had been a poor
student, hindered by a learning disability that he'd had since birth,
his mother having taken drugs early in pregnancy before being arrested
for possession and put in jail, where it was discovered she was with
child. Randall was born in a prison infirmary where he was quickly
placed in the custody of his biological father. Randall Bowling, Mulder
deduced, had suffered a schizophrenic episode in his early 20's, when
the first evidence of the psychological disorder often emerged. Randall,
Mulder concluded, had been infatuated with Kristin... admiring her and
following her. In time, diverging from his desire to possess her
intellect and scholastic abilities, he had begun to desire to possess
her. The stalking was heightened by his schizophrenic break-down, which
his employer had unknowingly collaborated in his description of
Randall's suddenly erratic behavior. Driven by jealously and a warped
sense of paranoia and injustice at his own shortcomings, he had turned
violent... no longer seeking to possess Kristin, but rather destroy her
in enraged jealously. For years he quenched his psychotic hunger for
revenge by following her, tracking her, even coming to blows when he
took to attacking her in parking lots (it was just his bad luck and
Kristin's fortune that she was well trained in self-defense). When
Kristin moved, however, and denied Randall his outlet for his psychotic
obsession, he had been forced to turn his attentions elsewhere. He had
targeted other students that were at the top of their class, convinced
in his twisted mind that for every valedictorian in the high schools
there were other poor kids like him that were being cheated out of what
they deserved... their possible intelligence stolen and sucked out be
these evil people.

They received a call mere minutes after leaving the room. It was the
agents sent to question Randall... they were at his home in Richmond,
but he was no where to be found. Backed by a warrant, however, a search
of his apartment turned up not only a coil of the rope found at the
Maryland dock and the Michigan manufacturing company, but also bloody
and rusted fishing tools... heavy hooks used in hauling in large fish
and dirty skinning knives.

Everything was thrown into a flurry when a report came in of a
kidnapping... another young woman, class valedictorian at her local high
school, snatched from the parking lot in plain sight. The girl's
boyfriend, having been nearby, had charged after the car that his
girlfriend was thrown in, witnesses reporting him diving into the car
through the window as the vehicle sped away with both teens.

Randall was committing his crimes in broad daylight... his psychosis was
reaching a new dangerous level... evidenced by his brazen actions and
increasingly hasty and brutal killings.

Mulder quickly rallied the agents within the immediate vicinity,
ordering them to the field behind an old button factory... a place
Kristin said had been a prime place for parties during their own high
school days and where she'd found repeatedly Randall had followed her to.

Scully could still remember the rock hard feeling in her stomach at the
sight when they'd arrived at the tucked-away field. The old Impala that
Randall had been seen driving off in sat near the ditch, doors thrown
open and left so. Mulder and Scully, the first agents on sight, were
standing there for only a moment when a piercing scream filled the air.

Mulder, once again disregarding protocol about backup, charged off into
the field, weapon drawn. Scully followed.

They found Randall standing in the field, the young woman held fiercely
by one arm, wrists bound by rope, while Randall threw aside a small gas
can, having wet her clothes with it. The young man, the girl's
boyfriend, was on the ground about ten feet from Randall and the girl,
just getting up. A gash on his hairline indicated he'd been hit and
knocked out cold recently.

Randall was holding a gun to the young woman, the other reaching quickly
into his pocket for a lighter then gripping the girl around the neck,
keeping her from escaping.

"RANDALL!" Mulder screamed, weapon by his side but not yet drawn. It was
always different dealing with schizophrenics... he wasn't sure yet if
bodily threat would do any good.

Randall turned his eyes on Mulder, crazed anger billowing in them. He
yelled, "I have to do this! Don't you see!! She wants to hurt us all!"

Scully had arrived, gun drawn and pointed at Randall.

Randall saw the barrel of the gun pointed at him, his temper flared, and
without warning he stepped back from the girl, pulling his arm away from
her neck. With a quick flick of the wrist he ignited the lighter,
tossing it at the girl.

"NO!" the young man screamed, lunging for his girlfriend.

The girl did not have time to move... she could only turn her face away
and tense.

Scully fired... Randall fell to the ground, bullet having passed through
his shoulder and knocking him to the ground.

The gasoline-soaked front of the girl's shirt caught under the small
flickering flame of the lighter, erupting in a hungry flame that crawled
up her shirt in a matter of seconds.

The boyfriend reached the girl, not hesitating (regardless of the
flames) to touch her. He reached into the flames that billowed quickly
around her body, pulling her forward, throwing her to the ground, and
quickly kneeling down... rolling her, fighting to peel the shirt from
her, covering her body with his as best he could to deprive the flames
of oxygen. Mulder and Scully barreled forward to help.

In the short time it took them to reach the teenagers, the boyfriend had
succeeded in dousing the flames. The girl lay, trembling and frightened,
her upper body covered in third degree burns. Her shirt was gone, still
flickering and flaming nearby in pieces, having been ripping apart by
the boy's frantic pulling. The girl's hair on one side was singed up to
the scalp. Her face, save the the right side of her neck, was unburned.
Turning her head had saved her face from the flames. Her bound hands
were also charred, but not as severely. The worst injuries were to her
stomach and chest.

The boyfriend who sat near her was almost just as burned. The front of
his shirt was gone, burned away. His chest was seared, his hands black
and red from heat blisters and burnt flesh, his arms seared completely
of hair... otherwise they both seemed okay. It might be a long recovery,
but both would live.

The backup had arrived not long after, soon followed by a summoned
ambulance. After treatment at the nearest hospital, Randall was placed
in custody, the kids were treated and family was soon at their
bedsides... the case was over.

Now they were on their way home. It was late, the night having quickly
fallen on such a dark and eventful day. Scully had succumbed to the
feeling of sheer exhaustion quickly... she knew, however, Mulder had
not. She'd seen his face when they'd reached the two burned children. It
was terror... sheer and utter terror. He'd had to watch people go up in
flames before, but it never stopped himself from being gripped in terror
the next time. He'd looked at her and she could see in his eyes... he
was scared to death.

By the time they got back to the car the terrified look on his face had
ebbed, but he was now officially on edge. As Scully looked over at him
behind the driving wheel, she knew he was slow in coming down off that
fear-striken high. His eyes were not clouded in sleep... she knew he was
replaying in his head the scene of two innocent kids being engulfed in
flames.

Scully was studying Mulder, debating on whether or not to say anything
to him. He proceeded her with suddenly saying, "It's only about ten more
minutes to my place... you want to just sleep over?"

Scully thought about it a moment, automatic reaction about to urge her
to refuse, but she stopped herself. Mulder shouldn't be alone... not
after that. He might not admit it, but she knew what that had done to
him... seeing those kids burning in front of him like that. She was too
tired to drive, anyway, and she didn't want to burden Mulder with taking
her home. It was an easy decision, but she wanted to be sure it was a
sincere invitation.

Scully sighed heavily, sleep threatening, then commented, "I need to
shower, though."

Mulder shrugged, "You can use mine."

Scully nodded, "Alright." He meant the invitation... he wouldn't have
offered her the use of his shower if he hadn't. She settled deeper into
the seat, suddenly grateful she was now only ten minutes away from sleep
rather than close to half an hour... and thankful Mulder would not be
left alone after such a harrowing case.



****



They moved through the hall toward Mulder's door after stepping out of
the elevator, him using the key to let them in.

Mulder closed his door, locked it behind him, then turned on the kitchen
light as he offered, "You know where the towels are, in the closet, help
yourself to the bathroom."

Scully thanked him, quickly going to his bedroom and shutting the door.
She didn't lock it, knowing Mulder would not barge in on her, and
quickly moved to the bathroom adjoining his bedroom.

After a hot shower, she emerged, naked, into the rest of the bathroom.
The bathroom door was also closed, the humidity trapped in the single
room. Scully moved to the bathroom mirror, wiping the condensation off
the glass to look at herself. She studied her reflection. She looked
tired, almost as tired as she felt, though the shower had helped immensely.

Scully reached over to the toilet, on top of the closed lid where sat
the towel she had grabbed from the closet, quickly drying off. She
reclaimed her panties, them being her only pair, and slipped them on.

She went to the bathroom door, still practically naked. She opened the
door a crack and peeked out. The bedroom was empty, but the room was
changed... enough so that she knew Mulder had been in and out of it
while she was in the shower.

His suit from that day was crumpled on the floor near the dresser, shoes
kicked off by the wall. On the bed was a shirt.

Scully opened the door, moving across the room to the bed. She smiled
down... it was a New York Knicks T shirt. She picked it up, running her
fingers over the well-worn material, indulging herself in a sentimental
moment as she brought the shirt to her face and took a deep breath. It
smelled strongly of Mulder... and he'd left out his favorite shirt, no
less. Even in times of internal strife he managed to be an almost
perfect gentleman to her.

Scully put the shirt on, pulling it over her head and straightening it
out, tugging it down as far as it would. Good thing Mulder was so much
bigger than her, the shirt came down to her mid-thigh... conveniently
covering her underwear and any inappropriate leg.

Scully went to the bathroom to squeeze her hair out on the towel once
more, then cast it into the laundry basket (even though two of Mulder's
own towels were on the floor near it instead, which she picked up and
put in the missed hamper for him) and moved to the bedroom door, opening
it and stepping out, eyes scanning for her partner.

She found Mulder in the kitchen, sitting at the table with that pensive
look on his face. He was dressed in a gray T-shirt and faded jeans, feet
bare as they ticked faintly against the floor. He was sitting in front
of a beer, one hand around the bottle idly. She could see he'd not drank
much of it; probably more something to feed his oral fixation (which in
itself, in a Freudian sense, was a calming action) than to actually
quench a thirst.

Scully moved toward him.

Mulder looked up at her, taking in her appearance at a glance, "You
found the shirt."

Scully nodded, moving toward the table, "Yeah... thanks."

"No problem."

Scully studied him a moment, concerned. She stepped closer to him. In
the sparse light of the dark apartment, lit only by the light of the
kitchen overhead bulb and the light filtering from the open bedroom
door, she had to look hard to make out Mulder's features. He looked as
haggard as she felt. He'd needed a shave for days now, and his eyes
heavy and tired. She hated seeing him like this... a victim of his own
mind.

She reached his side, bringing up a hand and running her fingers slowly
and calmly through his hair.

Mulder closed his eyes, sighing heavily. Just that one stupid innocent
touch from Scully and he relaxed two or three noticable degrees.

Scully smiled faintly, having discovered early on the effect this had on
him, and continued to run her hand through his hair as she asked gently,
"Are you okay, Mulder?"

Mulder took a deep breath, considering his answer a moment. He finally
nodded, grumbling affirmatively under his breath, "Yeah... it's over."

Mulder, under Scully's continued caress, sank sleepily in his chair,
muscles going lax and his breathing evening out. Scully sighed softly,
"Go to bed, Mulder, I'll take the couch."

Mulder's eyes opened quickly. He looked up at her, "No... you take the
bed, I'll be okay."

Scully shook her head, eying him, "No way, Mulder... you need some sleep."

"So do you."

There was a silence for a moment, then Mulder stood, standing mere
inches from her. Scully dropped her hands to her side, looking up and
trying to find his face in the darkness. Mulder's soft voice filled the
silence, "We could share, unless you think..."

Scully smiled at him, jesting softly, "I'm too tired to try anything,
how about you?"

Mulder's warm, faint chuckle reached Scully's ears like music too long
deprived.

"You're right," Mulder said gently, a hand coming to Scully's back.
Scully took the cue, the two of them moving toward the bedroom together.
Once there, Mulder closed the door, saying, "You go on to bed... I'm
going to shower first."

Scully turned to him, "You promise you're not going to sneak off to the
couch?"

Mulder smiled at her... a smile that reminded Scully just how much
Mulder and his friendship meant to her, especially in dark moments like
this, "I promise."

Scully didn't need to be further prodded... she crawled into bed,
stealing one of Mulder's pillows and settling down on the left side...
because she knew Mulder slept on the right.

Mulder moved to the bathroom, shutting the door and soon afterward
(following a few minutes of silence wherein he was probably brushing his
teeth and shaving) the soothing cascade of water on the porcelain tub
was heard. Scully, lying on her left side facing the bathroom door, shut
her eyes and sighed, a comfort filling her at the sound of the running
shower water. Maybe it was a contentment at the domestic normality of
the sound, or maybe the reassuring tone that reminded her he was okay.

It was a short shower and not but ten minutes later she heard the water
shut off.

Scully graciously flipped over, turning her back to the bathroom door.

Mulder opened it slowly, a pause following. Scully knew Mulder was
checking on her to see if she was facing him (with a gentle smirk at
Mulder's leering nature, she wondered if the discovery she was facing
away relieved or disappointed him), then she heard him pad over to the
dresser and open drawers looking for some bed clothes. Scully wondered
how odd it was that she had just moved around this very room moments
before practically naked, and now Mulder was stark naked only minutes
later (for she doubted, considering the nest of towels in the bathroom,
that Mulder typically wore them around his waist in the rest of his
apartment).

A few minutes later the mattress dipped under Mulder's weight as he
crawled into bed beside her.

A silence followed, giving Scully time to note how strong and
overpowering his scent was after a shower, and he had indeed shaven...
she could smell his aftershave as if he were lingering right over her.
She wondered if he appreciated her smell as much as she did his. She
could not recount all the times on stake-outs, having fallen asleep, she
would rouse to the smell of him so close and know for once, all was well
in her little world.

The silence was broken by a tentative whisper from Mulder, his deep
voice testing quietly, "You asleep?"

Scully smiled softly, flipping over again to face him. The light from
the window now behind her was slipping in between the blinds, casting
his face in a faint light. Yep... he'd shaven... she could see the
gentle light laying across his smooth left jaw. She could also, just
barely, make out his open eyes that were looking right at her.

She sighed as her answer to his question.

Mulder was quiet a moment, then said, "I was thinking about that boy...
the last girl's boyfriend..."

Scully nodded, "Yeah...," then asked curiously, "what about him?"

Mulder thought a moment, then said, "He just... reached right into the
fire to save her... he didn't even think twice about it."

Scully nodded, "No... no, Mulder, he didn't."

Mulder was quiet a long time, then studied her a moment and his
tentative, insecure and yet determined voice filled the silence once
more, "You know I'd walk through fire for you, right?"

Scully smiled gently, sweetly. She brought her hand out from where it
had rested underneath her pillow, placing it over Mulder's left hand
where it prostrated flat on the mattress, "I know, Mulder... I know. Go
to sleep, it's been a long day."

Mulder, seemingly put at complete ease now knowing that Scully
understood what he would do for her, sighed and closed his eyes. Within
moments he was asleep.

Scully, however, remained awake. She was studying him in the faint
light, watching his gently shut eyes, the rise and fall of the covers as
he breathed, how innocent and calm he looked in sleep.

She knew what it meant for Mulder to have said that to her. She knew how
much it meant coming from him because she knew without a doubt that
Mulder meant literally what he'd said, and she knew... she knew that,
from Mulder, that particular phrase was monumental. Because she knew how
he feared fire, but she also knew he meant what he'd said with all his
heart in spite of that.

Scully fell asleep soon after, her hand still resting gently upon his.



END